


You cock

by RoughTweedAction (Donya)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adlock, Captain John Watson, Cocaine side effects, F/M, Humour, Karachi, M/M, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Tension, Sheriarty - Freeform, Smalllock, Smut, The Abominable Bride goodness, if you know what i mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-31 07:46:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10894869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donya/pseuds/RoughTweedAction
Summary: The adventures of Sherlock's cock. Fantasies and porn from the perspective of his dick. A lot of times the brain did not let the boner bone and two times the boner got its way. Seven Sherlock pairings.





	You cock

Sherlock's cock led a peaceful, solitary existence. Nothing ever happened to it, nothing that would involve someone else's body parts. Its only companion was the right hand but they did not meet particularly often. When they did, the whole body was shaking with furious frustration and the quick, jerking movements of the hand lacked any finesse. The goal was to reach completion as fast as possible and let the brain think clearly again. That was the source of all troubles, the brain. Thought it was the boss of the body and was determined to control every limb. It was the brain who decided that the cock was never going to even lay its one eye on another person. 'Stop distracting me, you cock,' the brain often ordered in exasperation. 'Kindly try not to get hard whenever someone says our name, it's unbecoming.'

The cock rebelled, obviously. Responded quite vigorously in the least suitable moments, not caring what the brain thought. It hoped that one day, the power of the boner would be stronger than the logical thinking favoured by the person it was attached to.

The tumultuous youth ended without any satisfying contact and the prized virginity was not taken by any of the cock's potential interests. Then the phase of drugs came, the cock was out of its mind, frustrated like never before. Cocaine, the drug of choice of the cock's man, was also an aphrodisiac. What was supposed to a treat for the brain ended up increasing the body's sexual drive. And even then the brain refused to resolve the tension with the help of another body. Perhaps because of the side effects. The entire body suffered some discomfort when the drug wore off but the cock felt most betrayed. Apart from the decreased sperm count and the threat of erectile dysfunction, whenever it got erect, reaching the expected finish was nearly impossible.

The cock was full of hope when the brain managed to get things under control and the adventure with cocaine ended for good. The man whose help minimised the danger of a relapse might be the one, the cock thought. There was nothing to fear, it tried to convince the brain, the DILF was truly friendly and could not possibly have evil intentions. But the brain was too excited about the chance to finally prove its worth. 'Work!' it yelled at the cock. 'Deductions! Cases! Shut up, you dick, we are busy!'

It lasted until the DI broke into their new flat. Sitting comfortably in their chair, smug, smiling and had he always been so...? Even the teeth wanted to join in and unbuckle the DI's belt. The cock did not care what the brain thought, it filled the trousers to the point of discomfort, forcing the arms to fly up and gesture wildly to divert everyone's attention from the incriminating bulge.

'For God's sake, stop!' the brain hissed. 'We're about to solve the case and have a first real friend we're trying to impress and not scare away. For God's sake, don't you dare leak.'

 

The body was flooded with adrenaline, the rush of excitement stronger than ever. 'Carl Powers,' the mouth whispered and all of the alarms went off. The cock twitched, intrigued, but obviously did not argue with the brain. But God, the thrill of finally finding answers to those old questions, the whole body had never felt more alive. It got more intense when Miss Wenceslas gave them the name. Moriarty.

The brain snapped at the cock, 'Will you stop? We're not physically attracted to this maniac. The more you distract me, the longer it will take to find him.'

Well. The cock loved the tension, even though it led nowhere. Or maybe...

 

When Joe Harrison tried to attack John with his bike and John aimed the gun at him, saying, 'Don't. Don't,' even the knees got weak. The brain was confused. 'What are you doing? We're not attracted to him either, he's our friend.'

'Yeah, but did you see that? And hear? That _don't_ '? Can't we just, hmm, try something new?' The cock suggested hopefully.

'In the middle of a case? With our flatmate? You're not the brightest light in the harbour, are you?'

 

'Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?' Moriarty asked.

For the first time, the brain let the cock, currently rock hard, have some control of what came out of the mouth. 'Both.' 

It was immaterial if the attraction was platonic or not, the fascination erection was there and had no intention of going away.

John's being heroic and gripping Moriarty from behind only made matters worse, the body could not leave even if it wanted to, the hardness between the legs practically rendered it immobile. The brain wasn't sure what was happening, why John holding Moriarty and Moriarty's excited, 'Good!' affected the body so much. There was no way the three of them would drop everything and make out, but the fantasy of it was certainly going to return on sleepless nights... for unknown reasons.

 

Moriarty's continuous flirting, honest or not, should have prepared them for the case of Irene Adler. And yet the power play with the royal family, both the brain and the cock found it captivating. Cleverly disguised as a poor, wounded vicar, the body was sitting on the sofa, the brain could not wait for its moment of triumph over Miss Adler.

'I don't think Kate caught your name?'

'I'm so sorry. I'm...'

She was naked. Very naked, very quickly. The brain malfunctioned, all the blood rushed down to the cock. Two firm breasts right in front of their eyes. Soon the brain resumed its work, a bit overwhelmed by Irene's nudity. Despite it, she remained enigmatic, but she was about to lose and none of her tricks could possibly...

'I like detective stories. And detectives. Brainy is the new sexy.'

The brain made the mistake of resuming the story of the hiker. The gibberish that got out of the mouth surely confirmed that Irene's manipulation was ineffective.

 

Irene managed to outsmart the brain again and swiftly retrieved the camera phone. The brain was sure the use of the crop was unnecessary, she could have waited another minute and simply take it. The cock did not mind the crop, not in the slightest. Both the smacks and the slow, tender strokes. Irene knew what people liked. And she was not as unobservant as others, she must have noticed the result of her actions. It was an infatuation erection from the first smack.

The Woman sneaked in through the window with the coat and the explanation of the hiker's death. For once the brain and the cock had a similar interest. She was clever and perceptive and her voice... The moaning text alert indeed alerted the whole body. The brain ordered an immediate change to something less personal, but both the cock and the heart disagreed.

'We're keeping this.'

'Let's find her twitter account,' the heart suggested. 'For science.'

'Heart, don't talk out loud, you lower the IQ of the whole body,' the brain said condescendingly. 'Who gave you permission to speak anyway?'

The cock was glad to have found an ally, although the sudden awakening of the heart did complicate things. The discovery of the camera phone on the mantlepiece saddened the heart and it kept muttering, 'No, no.' In the morgue, it continued and prevented the brain from finding the logical explanation of why smoking was prohibited in public spaces. 'No,' the heart kept whimpering when the brain tried to recover by composing music.

 

Even when the Woman returned to the land of the living, the cock had little hope for a satisfying secret meeting with her. Until one day it saw her sitting in their chair, wearing their dressing gown and proving once again that she was a formidable opponent. The cock thickened instantly and was barely controlling itself. It wasn't just the brain that stopped it but also John cockblock Hamish Watson. But then she said 'Twice' and even the brain shut up for a second, only to later focus on the puzzle.

After the unexpectedly intimate conversation about dinners and sneaky pulse checking, the brain was insulted by their brother. 'Because this was textbook. The promise of love, the pain of loss, the joy of redemption. Then give him a puzzle and watch him dance.'

The cock tried to respond to Irene's sudden appearance on the plane but it was overshadowed by the raging heart.

'How could she have done this to us? She doesn't like us at all! She was manipulating us all this time!'

'Heart, we were doing the same, haven't you noticed?'

'Let's get angry at her. Passionately angry. That would show her and prove to Mycroft that we had never had any feelings for her!'

 

The cock naturally jolted when the Woman mentioned Moriarty. The brain was not cooperating with the still wounded heart, it was impressed with Irene. She won, got what she wanted, but wasn't short-sighted and cleverly ensured her future safety by blaming everything on Jim Moriarty. Clever. But then the heart reminded the brain to destroy Irene for what she had done to them. 'Let's say how ridiculously foolish it was of her to let her heart rule her head and how little we care whether she will live or not! No, it doesn't matter that Mycroft will be shocked by this vehemence, we all hate Irene!'

 

'Oh, my God,' the heart whispered, overcome with emotions when they watched Irene preparing for her death. In what she believed was her last moment, she thought of them.

'Don't be dull, she knows we're here and surely only wants to check if we changed the alert,' the brain explained.

The cock wasn't listening, focused only on the surge of adrenaline and desire. They were about to save the Woman and all of the usual cockblocks were on a different continent. Irene would express her gratitude in only one way. Finally! The waiting was almost over, the cock throbbed excitedly. 'Now? Can we do it now?' It asked the brain when the terrorists were no longer a problem.

'God, now you,' the brain was annoyed with the cock, even though that situation was the heart's fault. 'We have to clean up first. No one can suspect anything. Also, may I remind you that we're in a Muslim country? Isn't one near-death experience enough?'

It was not enough. The cock had needs and wasn't going to let the brain ruin this perfect opportunity for losing their virginity. All that trouble to find Irene and no reward? Even though she was willing to thank them non-verbally? 'Heart, are you with me?'

'Yes. Brain, shut up, we're doing this. Motivated only by scientific curiosity. Operation shagging is go.'

The brain was outvoted. It tried to remind them that they had plans to escape to India, from India to Singapur or South Korea. They could not waste a couple of hours in Karachi, in a shabby little hotel where they pretended to be a married couple backpacking through Asia. And yet that was exactly what they did. Irene was, as she promised months prior, delicate. The cock twitched happily when her slender fingers touched it, lightly enough to let it get used to the contact. The pads on her fingers caressed the sensitive skin expertly and she reminded them to be less vocal. Yes, definitely, they did not need company. She held the cock in her hand, gently thumbed the head, stroked the entire length with increasing urgency. The cock was in awe of her hand. The Woman knew what she was doing, the way she touched the cock had very little in common with the minimally enjoyable handjobs it had experienced in the past. The cock had never been harder or more starved for attention, it leaked copiously, helping her with her carefully calculated movements.

Their clothes formed one large heap on the floor. It was then that the brain suddenly remembered to check the contents of one of their pockets. A condom, brought all the way from England just in case, a simple precaution and not at all a part of the elaborate plan to get laid in Pakistan. The Woman smiled and helped the trembling hands with the condom. The cock wanted to protest but it was aware of the necessity of using protection... and the possibilities it provided.

The cock was excited beyond measure, prepared for the moment it had been waiting for since the onset of puberty. The first touch of the wet, warm cunt against its well-protected head was electrifying. The brain short-circuited when the Woman got closer, spread her thighs and guided the cock to her opening. The slippery walls closed around the cock as it slid inside, screaming with joy. Finally! Snugly nestled inside Irene, it had no intention of leaving but even it understood the mechanics and withdrew a bit to glide back in, revelling in the blissful sensations. The nerve endings barely coped with the stimulation, the brain only reminded the cock to not come too soon and the heart was babbling unintelligibly.

The slow, sensual rhythm was not really the cock's choice but it underestimated the strength of Irene's muscles, they gripped it with admirable force. The tightness and the friction at every move felt amazing, the cock had to admit it was worth the long months of waiting for the seductress' next move and the inconvenience of the long jorney. The brain tried to conceal its own glee by reminding the cock that it was never going to happen again. 'Just this once and I expect you to shut up for good. No more sex, a single intercourse is enough for a lifetime.'

The cock didn't argue only because the cunt spasmed around it, clenched down on it and if it was even possible, became warmer and more accommodating. The cock thrust in deeper, determined to stay there forever and keep the sweet, rippling sensations coming. The climax hit them not without a warning, but the brain shut down anyway, the cock pulsed hotly inside Irene and the heart felt like it was going to burst.

Still trapped in the condom, the cock slipped out of Irene, dizzy with pleasure, satisfied and tired. The afterglow stopped the brain from resuming its work and they stayed on the bed, officially to get some rest. The closeness of Irene's body was accidental and their limbs tangled together was a coincidence and not cuddling. And certainly not an invitation for an encore, the brain told the cock, who didn't try to pretend it understood the message.

 

Back in London, Moriarty was ready to play. The cock was half hard from the moment John showed them the text from the spider. However, the Karachi night calmed it enough to not complicate things more than necessary and only once it fought with the brain from dominance. When 'Richard Brook' joined them at Kitty's and broke the character, the cock didn't care about the problems that lay ahead. It made sure the entire body showed the furious admiration and insanely strong arousal.

'But we only want to catch him,' the brain muttered, unconvinced. 'Capture him, make him pay for what he had done... Cock, say you agree. Cock?'

 

The time away from the family and friends was harder than the brain thought. It blamed the heart, that rebellious, gradually louder and misbehaving part of the body that didn't want to be silent anymore. 'We miss John. When can we contact John? And Molly and Lestrade? Mummy and Daddy and Mycroft?'

The brain was unfazed by the longing. 'We have a mission. The criminal network of Moriarty.'

'May God rest his soul.'

'Since we're away, can't we get in touch with the Woman?' The cock asked the same old question and was ignored as usual.

The new owner of their virginity was far away, still hiding. An occasional text message was always the same: 'I'm not dead. We can have dinner again.' The cock had never wanted anything more. Now that it knew how heavenly it felt to be touched and held and pressed into someone else's body, it could hardly think of anything else. The sexual frustration was about to get the cock into serious trouble.

It started in Serbia. The brain was repulsed and terrified by the cock's reaction. 'Have you lost your mind? We are not into bondage and definitely do not have a pain kink. Damn, too late, you're stiff, aren't you?'

The cock bobbed between the legs, filled with the vibrating need. The brain ordered the hand to retrieve the key from the Serb, but the resulting joy failed to mute the groaning of the neglected cock. And right then the mysterious Serbian commander in his impeccable, expensive coat approached them, grabbed them by the hair and whispered into their ear something that the cock did not understand. All it heard was the rush of blood and desire. So, bondage, slight pain kink and submissiveness?

'Cock, are you insane? He's our brother, oh God,' the brain lamented, revolted. 'Stop, this can never happen again!'

 

'The Woman knew.' The brain was conflicted, instead of solving the mystery, it imagined the Woman in her battle dress, standing in front of them and tracing the line of their jaw with her finger, as tenderly as she did it in Pakistan... and in India. The cock jumped, confused but ready for action.

'You idiot, this is our mind palace, she's not really here, calm down.'

'Let's listen to the music we composed for her,' the heart said. 'This will help us with the case.'

'How?' The brain asked but it was too late. 'Ugh, the Woman. Everyone else in the mind palace helps us make deductions, but the only thing she does is to distract us.'

'Yes,' the heart replied smugly. 'It's almost as if we were in love.'

 

Another incestuous hard-on was, strangely enough, the brain's fault. Mycroft calmly threatened Anderson and his friend. The brain, still slightly high, thought it'd be a good idea to record the threat on their phone. Mycroft did not appreciate it and informed them how unwise that action was. In a flash, he was slammed against the wall, his hand was twisted behind his back and held in a bruising grip. Mycroft's moaning and their panting, the demonstration of power and the role reversal were intoxicating. The cock swelled, fascinated.

'What? Who authorised this action? Cock, you dick, he is our brother! John is watching!'

Mycroft didn't struggle and bit back pained gasps. The cock wasn't sure if it liked the silence more than the previous, very vocal response. Luckily, for once they wore loose trousers and no one noticed the awkward boner.

 

The feverish Victorian dream was supposed to help them explain Moriarty's message from beyond the grave. It started with an unusually observant Watson. 'Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, Holmes, you misdiagnosed.'

The cock over was over the moon. 'Then correct me, Doctor' and just as pleased, 'My Boswell is learning.' The Woman was not the only sapiosexual person, then. Impressive deductions turned on both the cock and the brain. Smart. That was their type. What a shocking discovery.

 

'A remarkable woman,' Watson referred to someone else than Lady Carmichael. The heart saw an opportunity and took it. 'Why do you need to be alone?'

The brain sensed the deception. This was not John Watson speaking. 'Abhorrent... the grit... the crack...' the brain repeated the same old lies.

'Feelings,' the heart said.

'Impulses,' the cock joined in.

'What is wrong with you two? We will never marry Irene Alder.'

'No one said anything about marriage. A little tryst from time to time, a weekend away, anything. You're fine with texting her because then she's beyond our reach and no one gets hurt.'

'Shut up. We like being alone, it's our choice. Oh, look, the bride!'

 

It was the brain's idea to summon Moriarty. It was the heart's idea to make him repeat his words from their meeting in the pool and smile warmly. Then the cock took over. Why shouldn't Moriarty mention their bed and imply he wanted to lick their skin? Some intense, Victorian-style dick measuring contest and the intimacy were also appealing. The new definition of the sexy, the invasion of their bed and the deep, long eye-contact by the fire were the results of the cock and the heart's collaboration. The brain could not handle the idea of using memories of the Woman to intensify the vision of Moriarty.

'What do you want, Sherlock?'

'You,' the cock offered.

'You,' the heart agreed.

Truth,' the brain recovered.

They were all more or less composed until Moriarty fellated his gun. Pressed it to his tongue and sank to his knees. Right in front of them. No one remembered the point of the dream. Who would think logically in such a scorchingly hot moment? The cock wanted only one thing: to replace the gun. Let Moriarty lick something less dangerous but just as loaded.

'Oh my... Wait, no, cock, stop it. We can't do it. He's not real, remember?'

'We've never tried oral sex. Might be important.'

They stared at Moriarty, who talked without removing the gun, then repeated his words, this time clearly, 'Dead is the new sexy.'

'Quick, let's do it!' The cock commanded. 'If you're scared he'll bite, I can just rub against his tongue, look, he clearly wants it and-'

Moriarty shot himself again and then they were cockblocked by the jet.

 

They first met Elizabeth Smallwood shortly after John's wedding. She came to Baker Street right after CAM assaulted her with his tongue. Another remarkable, no-nonsense woman, strong, dignified, not easily intimidated. She ignored Mycroft's decision not to go against Magnussen. That alone impressed not only the brain but also the cock. It reckoned she reminded them of the Woman. The fact that she was not afraid of Mycroft only made her more likeable.

They met again, after the lovely Victorian sexual fantasy.

'Mr Holmes,' she said, exasperated with the Holmes brothers. 'We do need to get on.'

The cock ignored the orders to stay down. It didn't matter that she was older and not interested. It didn't matter that Mycroft's dick mirrored his brother's. Lady Smallwood could be dominating or gentle, or both. Not knowing for sure was exciting, almost as much as hearing her say Moriarty's name.

There was no time to contemplate the weirdest triangle when Moriarty was possibly, certainly, hopefully, not really back. Every little reminder of their favourite adversary elicited a strong reaction from the body. The anticipation erection, the hard-on of longing, the admiration full salute. The realisation that it was all about Mary hit them like a bucket of cold water.

 

'Ah!' the phone moaned in John's presence.

'Oh shit,' the brain groaned. 'I told you we shouldn't have saved Irene’s text alert and downloaded it to the new phone. Hand, what are you doing, no we can't check the message now!'

The cock didn't care they were caught red-handed by John. It had only one option whenever it heard the Woman's moan. Get hard and foolishly hopeful. The heart let the brain explain the complicated arrangement to John, a bit wary of his reaction. He was rather unsupportive of their little fling with Janine, after all.

'You bloody moron!' John exclaimed, utterly fed up with the brain. 'She's out there, she likes you and she's alive. And do you have the first idea how lucky you are? Yes, she's a lunatic, she's criminal, she's insanely dangerous. Trust you to fall for a sociopath!'

The heart listened, almost as confused as the brain. 'Cock, he's on board, did you hear that?'

'Just text her back!'

'But... Isn't being eternally emotionally constipated and alone better? Less complicated? No one can hurt our feelings if we don't have them in the first place. Heart, cock, did you drug John? What on earth is going on?

'Because that chance doesn't last forever. Trust me, Sherlock, it's gone before you know it. Before you know it.'

 

The brain could not ignore John's speech. An outside eye, a second opinion, very useful, identical with everything that the cock and the heart had been saying since they met Irene. Almost five years of undefined yearning, sparks of joy at every text from her and the comforting knowledge that she was out there, somewhere.

Before anything was decided, the Sherrinford happened. The brain, the cock and the heart found some solace in the final confirmation of Moriarty's death. He really was gone and nothing could be done about that. The Woman, on the other hand...

_You know where to find me. SH_

**Author's Note:**

> I can explain. I've written a smutty fic from the perspective of Loki's prostate and always wanted to write a dick story. I didn't plan to include the heart (and neither did Sherlock). Also, I love Lady Smallwood so much and so does a Holmes dick, twój argument jest inwalidą.


End file.
